


Let our hearts like doors open wide

by ariadne83 (orphan_account)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014-2015 NHL Season, Bankruptcy, Gen, Jack's parents are the worst, Kidfic, M/M, Sid's parents aren't the worst but his dad has interesting priorities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ariadne83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years ago Jack stopped talking to Sid. Now Jack's in trouble, and finding out why is going to turn Sid's world upside down</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This plotbunny bit me and refused to go away.
> 
> Title is from [North](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byHSQoemFvI&) by Sleeping At Last. Hat tip to [somehowunbroken](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken) for letting me shamelessly steal the song from her playlist for a completely different story

It takes Sid a while to figure out that the insistent buzzing he can hear isn’t from, like, a gnat getting through his flyscreen or something. He rolls over and gropes for his phone. Huh; it’s not the end of nap time either. But his phone’s lit up like a Christmas tree - which is weird, because it’s only July - and cheerily informing him that Jack Johnson is calling. Sid hasn’t seen him since the playoffs, and he can’t even remember the last time Jack used his number.

That’s no excuse to be rude, though, so Sid swipes right. “H’lo?”

“I fucked up, Sid,” Jack says without preamble. 

“Uh. What?”

Jack just carries on as if he hadn’t said anything. “I couldn’t just leave her there, okay? I mean I did but then I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t stop _thinking_ , and then my lawyer said-”

“Hold up,” Sid interrupts. “Leave who?”

Jack sighs, and it makes the connection crackle. “My daughter. I pulled her out of summer day camp after, like, two days. I wasn’t going to; I didn’t tell anyone. If my mom calls to check in on her, she’s going to lose her shit.”

“So call your mom,” Sid says automatically, and then his brain catches up with what Jack just told him. “Wait, what?”

“Trust me, if this was a year ago I would, but my lawyer made me block her number.” Jack laughs, short and bitter. “But hey, at least I didn’t have to buy them a house in Ohio.”

“Hold on. You have a kid?” Sid asks, just to be clear. “That’s why your parents have been moving around with you?” That doesn’t sound quite right; Sid’s pretty sure they moved in across the road when Jack was at Shattuck. Sid would’ve noticed if Jack was a dad at sixteen, right? But then, he’s just woken up from a nap and none of this makes any sense.

“No, Sid, she’s - 2008, remember? The Pens/Kings game, a couple months after I medalled at Worlds?”

Sid blushes. “Yeah.” It hadn’t really mattered, that night, which team had won; Sid had still been riding high on being named captain and Jack had still been riding high on his win from December. It’d been almost like old times, the two of them accomplishing great things in tandem if not actually together. He’d let things get _too much_ like old times, let himself sink into Jack’s warmth like he used to. And then Jack had been gone in the morning, and he’d barely talked to Sid for two years.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t miss the next season with an injury,” Jack says bluntly. “I had a kid, and I didn’t tell you because I’m a fucking idiot.

“This isn’t funny,” Sid’s mouth says without permission from his brain. 

“Trust me, I know. It’s the biggest fuckup I’ve ever made in my life, but I can’t- I could lose everything and I honestly wouldn’t give a shit but I can’t lose her.” 

Jack’s voice is shaking, and Sid can’t help slipping into captain mode. “Go get a glass of water,” he commands. “And then you’re going to sit somewhere she can’t hear you, and you’re going to start from the beginning.”

“Okay.” Jack swallows audibly, and Sid can hear him shuffling around. There’s a TV on in the background playing something horribly loud - cartoons, maybe, for Jack’s _kid_. Shit. Sid rolls over and punches his pillow, and when that doesn’t make him feel any better he punches the mattress half a dozen times. He eyes up the headboard but it’s not worth breaking his hand when he isn’t even sure of the facts yet. _Fuck._

“I’m in the bathroom,” Jack says after a minute.

“Drink your water, calm down, and tell me what the f- What’s going on,” Sid manages to correct at the last minute. If he lets himself get angry, if he starts yelling and cursing at Jack, he has a feeling he’ll never stop.

Jack laughs, and he still sounds like he’s on the far edge of hysterical. “Where do I even start?”

“Start with why you’re risking having your mom call the police.

“She started it!” Jack blurts out. “I thought we could figure things out, I really did, but then she started talking about child support. About how you could afford it, and it’d fix things, and I can’t-”

“Breathe, Jack.” Sid surprises himself with how calm his voice sounds. It’s almost like he’s so furious he can’t actually take it in, so his mind’s gone for a nice, floaty trip above his body. 

Jack takes a couple of audible, ragged breaths and tries again. “She’s your daughter. My parents always knew, and they said there was no way your dad- They said a lot of things, and I was stupid enough to think they were looking out for me. I trusted them to look after my money, and now it’s gone! And they want yours! I couldn’t fucking do that to you, Sid, not after everything else I’ve done already. Like hell am I letting them take her back to Michigan and use her against you.”

Sid has to put the phone down. He feels like he’s going to throw up. He’s heard rumours about Jack having problems with money, and he’d crushed any gossip trying to link it to speculation about drugs. But locker room jokes about hookers and blow are one thing; this is something infinitely more horrifying.

“-so sorry,” he hears from his phone’s tinny speaker.

Sid picks it back up and jams it against his ear. “You need to call your lawyer and make sure nobody issued an AMBER alert. I need to call my people and get back to you.”

“Sid, I really am-”

“Lawyer, Jack. I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up before Jack can say anything else, and narrowly resists the urge to throw his phone across the room. He needs it intact for when he talks his lawyer and his agent and his financial advisor… fuck, and he has to tell his _parents_.

“Motherfucker,” Sid yells, kicking his shoe across the room. It bounces off the wall and leaves a dent in the plaster. Sid stares at that for a while - the new shape of his room. That dent is the only proof he actually talked to Jack just now; it’s the only confirmation that his life has been upended.

Sid gets up and shoves his mattress off the bed, knocking over the side table in the process. That gives him pause, because breaking his own stuff won’t make things better, so he walks around the bed and drags his mattress the rest of the way off. Then he rights the side table, tucks the sheets back onto the mattress, and piles up the pillows.

There. It’s different, now. He flops down and covers his face with his pillow, counts to ten, and tosses it aside. Nope, he’s definitely still on the floor. This isn’t some bizarre nightmare. It’s not a stress dream he can escape up from, sweating from remembered betrayal until he wakes up to reality. Jack has a daughter. _Sid_ has a daughter. He doesn’t even know what she looks like, or exactly how old she is. 

God, he has so much shit to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor Crosby improves everything

Sid’s agent thinks it’s a prank. Sid’s lawyer thinks it’s a spectacularly unfunny prank. Sid’s financial advisor sounds like he wants to hyperventilate. He gives them as much information as he can, which isn’t anywhere near as much as they want, and asks them to email him any further questions. Maybe someday he’ll be able to answer even half of what they want to know, but right now Sid feels like his brain is full of screaming goats. And he has nothing to feed them, because Jack was an incoherent mess when Sid talked to him. The end.

Sid hangs up feeling… not worse, necessarily, but disappointed that not one of them had been able to help. He’s so fucked.

He barely remembers driving over to his parents’ house. That’s not good, and Sid takes a mental note not to try to drive until he gets his head back in the game. So, never.

Sid’s parents don’t believe it any more than his trio of un-helpers had. He says he has a daughter; his mom laughs, but his dad turns purple and starts sputtering about a paternity test. Then Sid says the ‘mother’ is Jack, and his dad has to sit down.

“Sidney,” Mom says, softly.

“She’s six, I think,” Sid replies. It’s the only thing he can think of to say. “Six years old. Or maybe not. I don’t know her birthday.”

Dad slams his fist down on the table. “How could you be so damn stupid?”

Sid flinches, but it’s not anything he hasn’t already thought. “I’m sorry.” It’s useless to say he didn’t mean for it to happen; that much is obvious.

Mom walks around the table and gives him a hug. “We’ll figure things out. We always do.”

Dad just makes a disgusted noise. 

“I’m sorry,” Sid repeats. “I didn’t know until today, and I thought… you deserve to know.”

“More courtesy than that boy showed you,” Dad says shortly. “God, if this had leaked-”

“It didn’t,” Mom cuts in. “And we have more than enough to worry about without borrowing trouble from your imagination, Troy.”

Sid ducks his head, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of a staredown. “I should- I need to tell Taylor. And I need to make more calls.” He needs to check in and make sure Jack hasn’t been arrested, too, but Sid’s pretty sure mentioning that name again isn’t going to turn this conversation anywhere good.

Mom squeezes him tight and then lets him go. Dad doesn’t even look at him when he leaves the room.

Sid shuts himself in the den, and when Taylor picks up he starts with, “This isn’t a joke, so don’t laugh.”

“Uh, okay,” Taylor says, bemused. “I cross my heart and promise I have my serious face on.”

“You’re going to want to sit down, too,” Sid adds.

“Starting to freak me out.”

Sid laughs. “Good. I’ve been freaking out for a couple of hours. It should be someone else’s turn.

“Sid-”

“I have a daughter,” Sid cuts in. “With Jack Johnson. He just told me today.”

“What the _fuck_?” Taylor shrieks.

Sid moves the speaker away from his ear slightly out of self-preservation. “She’s six years old, or something. Jack wasn’t very specific, but he said 2008, so-”

“What the fuck, Sidney!” Taylor somehow manages to be even louder, and Sid’s uncomfortably reminded of the months he had concussion.

“I just told Mom and Dad, so my life is pretty much over,” Sid tries to joke. “If I disappear, Dad probably threw me in the lake.”

“Where are you?” Taylor demands. “I need to come _find you_. How could you tell me this over the phone, you asshole? I’m right here!”

There’s a crashing noise, which is kind of worrying, but Sid’s rescued from having to think of something to say when Taylor asks, “Wait, you didn’t jet off to Ohio, right? Or Michigan? To see your babydaddy?”

Sid laughs despite himself. “No. I’m not even sure where Jack is right now. He said something about summer camp.”

“I’m going to strangle him,” Taylor says, with feeling. “I’m going to get my hockey stick and choke him until he turns blue. What the _fuck_?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Sid sits back and lets her threats wash over him. It’s almost as good as the hug he just got from Mom.

“Earth to Sid,” Taylor says after a couple of minutes. “Are you still there, or did your brain explode?

“I’m here. I’m at Mom and Dad’s.”

“Stay there. I need to come give you a dead arm.” Then Taylor hesitates, and Sid isn’t inclined to fill the silence. This whole situation is only going to get more awkward over time; he might as well embrace it. “But seriously, you’re okay, right? Because I _will_ cross international borders to hunt Jack down and murder him if I have to.”

Sid sighs. “I’m really not okay, like, at all. But I’ll live.”

“Good. Stay put, and for god’s sake don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Taylor’s voice is light and teasing, and just like that Sid realises he’s lost the high ground. Forever. She’s not his little sister anymore; she’s The Smart One who doesn’t have a kid out of wedlock. And Taylor will never let him forget it.

“Goodbye, cruelest sister,” Sid says, and Taylor straight-up laughs at him before hanging up.


	3. Chapter 3

The weather is sunny and beautiful outside. There’s a breeze blowing up from the lake, and if this were any other day he’d be completely content. This day, though, is the day he found out he’s a father; today he has to lock himself in his car and try not to scream at someone he once considered his best friend. Sid needs to check on Jack’s- on _their_ daughter and make sure everything’s as okay as it’s going to get. But the tension between Sid and his dad hangs thick in the air; best not to slice through it with a skate blade by talking to _that boy_ under his roof. So: car retreat.

He’s not sure how Taylor’s mockery made him feel better but it did, so he wraps it around himself like armour and hits dial.

Jack’s phone rings and rings but Sid can’t make himself hang up. He doesn’t trust himself to call a second time, so he just grips his cell tighter and prays it won’t click over to voicemail.

“Sid?” Jack’s voice cuts in. “I’m so glad you-”

“How old is she?” Sid blurts out. 

“Caroline’s five and a half. Six in November.”

A laugh punches its way out of Sid’s chest. “Well, I got that one wrong, then.” The one detail Sid thought he had, and it was wrong. Wow, he is _killing_ it at the Dad thing.

“Thanks for talking me off the ledge before,” Jack says quietly. “My lawyer wants to send you a fruit basket.”

“I’d settle for a DNA test and a copy of her birth certificate,” Sid replies. He’s not even going to touch the rest of what Jack said; no-one would need to be _thanked_ if Jack hadn’t gotten them all into this fucking mess in the first place.

Jack sighs. “I guess that’s fair, but there wasn’t anyone else, Sid.”

“You’ve been lying to me for six years. I’m not taking your word for it.” 

“Okay. I guess I earned that. Anything else you want to know?” Jack asks.

Sid closes his eyes and lays his head back against the headrest. “Tell me what the hell’s going on with your parents, so I’m not blindsided.” 

“They-” Jack sucks in a ragged breath and tries again. “They really have been good to Caroline. Or at least I thought they were, but now I’m flat broke.”

“That’s what I don’t get,” Sid says. “How did that even happen?”

“I gave them power of attorney when I fired Brisson. I wasn’t thinking straight, Sid. I was pregnant in my second season, and I was terrified I’d never play again, and- And they said your dad would take her away. That he’d keep her away from me, so no-one would find out how I’d fucked up your life.”

Sid... doesn't even know what to say to that. He can't even argue that it's not true, because his dad would've been fucking furious; he _is_ furious. He would've fought tooth and nail to protect Sid's image as The Great One, the future of hockey, no scandals here.

Jack sniffs loudly. “They spent so much time helping with Caroline I didn’t even think- They took her to Disneyland. Every year. And I was stupid enough to think it was a birthday/Christmas combined present thing. They took care of everything, and they told me to just play hockey, so I did. I had no fucking clue anything was wrong until I got traded.”

“Jack,” Sid says helplessly.

“I know right? Grow up, dude. Take care of your own shit.”

“You trusted them not to rob you and your kid,” Sid points out. “That’s not stupid.”

“I don’t know, being bankrupt at twenty-six is about as idiotic as it gets.” Jack sniffles again; Sid’s pretty sure he’s crying. “My finance guy wants me to file paperwork by the end of the year.”

“Holy shit.” Sid wraps his free hand around the steering wheel, white-knuckled, so he won’t lose himself and start punching the dashboard.

“Karma’s taking a bite out of my ass,” Jack chokes out. “I never should’ve done this to you, Sid.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” But some things are crystal clear now, in hindsight. They’d managed to keep in touch for a while after Sid left Shattuck, both of them at the draft and then both of them at Worlds and then, best of all, both of them in the NHL. And then Jack just… stopped. He wouldn’t even look at Sid when they played each other, not even to shake his hand after the game. And Sid had let him, swallowing down the sick feeling that Jack was ashamed of what they’d meant to each other. That was the price of the Big Show, and Sid had paid it right along with Jack. Even now Sid holds himself apart from what (who) he wants, because he still doesn’t see how he can keep what he’s built if he goes after it. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll probably say that for the rest of my life, but it’s true.”

“When’s her birthday?” Sid asks instead of responding. “What does she look like? Wait, shit, you have custody, right? I’m supposed to ask you a bunch of things.” He puts Jack on speaker so he can try to access the notes app on his phone.

“November 2nd. She’s blonde like Taylor. My parents had guardianship so they could make medical decisions if I was away but that’s been terminated,” Jack rattles off. “So yeah, I have primary physical custody. Wouldn’t put it past my parents to try something, though.”

Sid shudders. “I wouldn’t either. Are you- You said something before about child support, and my finance guy almost had a heart attack when I mentioned it.”

Jacks sighs. “When things got bad my parents thought you’d swoop in and save us with, like, backpay on child support. But I - that’s not why I’m doing this, Sid.”

“Okay.” Sid isn’t going to trust him on that - he’s not going to trust Jack on anything for a long time - but they can pay people to fight that out later.

“Send me the deets; I’ll get my lawyer to talk to your people,” Jack says firmly, and then he swears.

“Daddy, I gotta pee,” a small voice yells in the background.

“Just a sec, Rolls. Sid, I have to-”

“That’s her?” Sid can hardly breathe. That’s- Jack’s daughter is a living, talking _person_. Sid’s daughter has hair like Taylor.

“Yeah, and she’s trying to break into the bathroom. Hold on a minute and I’ll trade places with her.”

Sid presses his lips together so he can hear every sound on the other end of the line - Jack gently chiding his daughter about breaking hotel property, her small voice demanding privacy, Jack letting out a snort of laughter; all the little things that make this real.

“Okay, I probably only have a couple minutes before she’s done,” Jack says. “Anything else you need to ask?”

“Can I meet her?” Sid blurts out. “Can you bring her up for the summer?”

“Sid. Fuck, I- Yeah. I mean, I can try to get something going? It’s not what I was planning on doing but I’m already way past that, and it’s the least I owe you,” Jack babbles.

“If the DNA test comes back right,” Sid amends. “And if you clear taking her out of the country with your lawyers.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it right, Sid. I’ll get my shit together.”

Sid will believe that when he sees it, but one thing he does still know about Jack is that he tries hard - he gives his all, even when he knows it’s not enough.

There’s no warning when the TV starts blaring again in the background, but Sid assumes that means Caroline’s back.

“Rolls, babe, I’m on the phone,” Jack complains. “Sorry, Sid, I should go.”

“Okay.” What else can he do? His daughter’s right there but he can’t see her, or touch her. She probably doesn’t even know he exists.

“Say goodbye to my friend, since you were mean enough to cut him off,” Jack says.

“BYE SID!” the little girl yells on command, and that’s it. Sid hangs up and loses it.


	4. Chapter 4

Sid’s mostly managed to stop crying by the time someone raps on his window. He scrubs at his face and peers out… at Taylor.

“Let me in!”

Sid unlocks the door, then locks it again once she’s settled in her seat.

“Wow, you look like crap,” Taylor comments.

“I talked to Jack again,” Sid confesses. “I heard her voice.”

Taylor opens her arms and Sid falls into her, trying his best not to wipe his snotty face on her shirt.

“She’s five and a half, her name’s Caroline, and she’s kind of a hellraiser,” Sid says. “She tried to kick in the bathroom door while Jack was on the phone. And he said she looks like you.”

Taylor squeezes him tight and starts sniffling a little herself. “Damn. I really wanted to give you a dead arm but now I don’t think I have the heart.”

Sid can feel more tears trying to spill out but he doesn’t fucking care anymore. “She talked to me, kind of. She said my name.”

Taylor makes a squeaking noise, and somehow her hug gets even tighter.

“I have a kid,” Sid whispers.

“I have a niece,” Taylor whispers back.

And that’s all there is for a while. Then, inevitably, Taylor gets tired of the chick flick moment and pats him on the back. 

“Okay, I’m driving you back to your place,” she informs him. “And we’re going to get you shit-faced.”

Sid nods along in agreement; it’s usually best not to argue with Taylor.

They get out of the car to switch places, and Taylor pulls away from the house. “You should probably let Mom and Dad know you’ve left,” she points out.

Sid smacks his palm against his forehead. “Shit, I didn’t even think of that.” He gets out his phone and brings up their number. His mother picks up almost immediately. “Hi, Mom. I’m catching up with Taylor for a while, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sidney-”

“Okay, bye,” Sid says in a panic, and ends the call. Then he turns off his phone and shoves it in his pocket.

Taylor snorts. “Smooth as silk.”

“Shut up, I’m illegally supplying you with booze,” Sid replies. He rests his head on the window and tries not to think about all the ways his mom will chew him out for hanging up on her. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

True to her word, Taylor gets him home safely and gets him spectacularly drunk. She paces herself, though, which is good because one of them needs to remember to order pizza. That's very important. 

She's in the bathroom when the doorbell rings, so Sid hauls himself up from his couch and staggers over to answer it. Food is good. It's important to drink responsibly. Sid has to set a good example for Taylor, 'cause she's going to college in a couple of months.

The door swings wide when Sid opens it, and he stumbles a little. “You’re not pizza.”

“Uh. No?” Nate says. “Croz, are you _drunk_?”

Sid tries to lean on the door for support but it slips away from him and he nearly falls over. “Maybe a little.”

Nate raises his eyebrows. “What the hell-”

“Oh crap,” Taylor says from behind Sid.

He turns to look at her, and the next thing he knows Nate has an arm around him. “Hi?” Sid says uncertainly.

“Let’s get you over to the couch before you end up with another concussion,” Nate replies, marching Sid towards the living room.

“I can walk,” Sid protests. He got over to the door all by himself!

"Sure, buddy." But Nate drags him through the house and dumps him on the sofa.

"Sid's having a bad day," Taylor explains.

Nate snorts. "I can see that. Want to tell me why?"

Sid lets out a heavy sigh. "Not really. It's _sad_." Nate sits down next to him and Sid tips over until he's leaning on Nate's shoulder.

"I was trying to get him to _avoid_ thinking about it for a while," Taylor says tightly.

Sid rolls his head on Nate's shoulder so he can look at her. "Taylor. Taylor. Why're you mad, Taylor?"

Taylor pats him on the hand. "Because your ex is an asshole, Sid."

Sid nods vehemently in agreement, knocking against Nate's collarbone a little. "He is!"

"Oh crap," Nate says under his breath. "I wasn't supposed to hear that, was I?"

Taylor smiles sweetly. "Tell anyone and I'll make sure every single one of your cups goes missing. You'll be too busy dodging pucks to the balls to see me coming when I get my revenge."

"Whoa! It's cool!" Nate says. "We're cool. Sid's my bud. Right, lil' Croz?"

Sid pulls back and grins at him. "Right."

Things are _really quiet_ for a while and then Taylor's cell starts ringing. "That's probably the pizza guy at the gate," she says. "You two stay put, and don't say anything."

Oh. Right. The pizza guy couldn't get to the doorbell. Nate got to the doorbell. 'Cause he has the security code. Sid snorts. "Oops."

"Glad you're having fun, buddy," Nate mutters.

Then he goes all quiet again, and Sid's head gets spinny. "I think I need to lie down."

"Sure." Nate pats his lap with the hand that isn't trapped behind Sid.

Sid lets himself topple onto Nate's legs. "You used to be more comfortable," Sid complains, as Taylor comes back with food. Nate doesn't say anything; he just starts petting Sid's hair.

"Uh, Sid? When was the last time you ate?" Taylor asks.

Sid has to think about it _really hard_. "Before my nap?"

Nate sighs. "So like, six hours ago? No wonder you're a mess."

"Why didn't you say something?" Taylor demands. "Idiot." But her voice is soft and fond.

Sid smiles at her. "You're the best, you know that?"

Nate squeezes the back of Sid's neck. "I don't know what happened, but whatever it is can't be so bad you'd want to miss out on pizza and garlic bread." 

That... actually makes Sid feel better. He struggles upright and pats Nate's knee. "You're the other best. Let's food."

There isn't really enough for three whole hockey players, but Sid feels less spinny after he's had a couple slices. Then he eats an entire loaf of garlic bread and starts feeling depressingly sober. Ish. His appetite vanishes and he slumps back on the couch. Nate and Taylor don't look at him until a pizza and a half has disappeared. 

Sid resists the urge to tuck his knees up against his chest. He's already been pathetic enough for one night. "Sorry I forgot you were coming over," Sid mumbles to Nate. "I'm having some family problems, and I turned off my phone.”

Nate bumps his shoulder against Sid's. "Anything I can help with?"

"I honestly have no idea," Sid chokes out. "Probably not?" Fuck, he needs to call Andy and let him know he needs to skip training tomorrow.

"If you could run interference with Duchene that'd be great," Taylor cuts in. "He can't keep anything a secret from his Twitter followers."

“Yeah. That," Sid agrees, fumbling his phone out of his pocket and turning it on. It pings with a bunch of notifications, and he swipes through to see if there's anything important. Then he wheezes like he's just taken a puck to the diaphragm, because there's one from Jack. A picture from Jack. It's of a blonde little girl fast asleep, starfished on top of the covers on a double bed. And it's captioned, _Meet Caroline._

"Taylor," he croaks, handing the phone over.

Taylor looks at the screen and freezes. "Oh my god. That's her?"

Sid can't do anything but nod.

Nate clears his throat, breaking the spell. "So, I should probably go and let you guys sort out your... stuff."

Sid puts a hand on Nate's arm and grips him tight. "I want- You should know. You offered to help me so you deserve to know." He takes the phone back from Taylor with his free hand and shows Nate the photo.

Nate raises his eyebrows. "Jack Johnson's babysitting someone's- Oh shit."

"She's my daughter. At least, he says she is. He only told me today, and she's five and a half," Sid says in a rush.

Nate pulls his arm out of Sid's grip and wraps it around his shoulders. "Cute kid."

Sid laughs even though his eyes are stinging again. "Yeah, she is," he chokes out. He stares at the photo for a long time, trying to decide whether or not Caroline has Jack's nose.

“You should send it to Mom and Dad," Taylor says after a while.

Nate makes a startled noise. "Uh, have you told them yet?"

Sid just nods. He can't look away from the screen. The little girl - his little girl - is somehow taking up the whole bed, just like Taylor used to do when she bounced into his room at six in the morning and demanded a story because she wasn't allowed to wake up Mom and Dad yet. He'd ended up falling out of his own bed more than once.

Sid taps on the photo to zoom in, and scrutinises it for another minute. “Huh. I think Jack was right,” he says. “She has your hair, Taylor.”

There’s a rush of air, but Sid doesn’t realise what’s going on in time to stop Taylor from tackling him. She takes down Nate, too, and the two of them laugh in Sid's face.

"Cute kid," Nate repeats, but Taylor corrects him. " _Cutest_ kid."

"Littlest Croz," Nate adds, and yeah. That's a nickname Sid can live with.


	5. Chapter 5

Sid's hangover the next morning is brutal. By the time he forces himself out of bed and stumbles downstairs, Nate's already tidied up any evidence that he slept on the couch and headed out to training. Sid braces himself to deal with the kitchen; Nate isn't the tidiest cook but he loves scrambled eggs. Hopefully he only managed to scramble the wall this time, not the ceiling.

Taylor's sitting at the kitchen counter sipping coffee and she cracks up laughing at the look on Sid's face. "He went to McDonald's," she says when she manages to catch her breath. "I think he was worried about making you cry again."

Sid blushes. "Sorry I was such a hot mess."

Taylor grabs a pen and throws it at him. "Nope. You don't have to apologise for that." 

Sid knocks it out of the air before it can ping him on the nose.

"Nice catch, though," she teases.

Sid rolls his eyes and shuffles over to get some coffee. He feels distinctly gross this morning, partly because his nose is blocked up from yesterday's crying jag and partly because he still has stale garlic breath even after brushing twice. He's not feeling brave enough to attempt real food yet, so once his coffee's ready he just snags a banana and goes to join Taylor.

She lets him get halfway through his cup before clearing her throat. "So, Dad called this morning."

That... doesn't sound good. Sid sets down his cup and looks down at his hands. "What did he say?"

"He, uh." Taylor shuffles in her seat. It's not right; she's not the type of person who's usually unsure of herself. "He doesn't want Mom to get attached to a kid who might not be yours."

Sid closes his eyes. "So no more pictures." It makes sense; Sid's the one who said he wasn't just going to take Jack's word for it. But it still makes his stomach churn.

"I almost told him where to shove it, but I don't leave for college for another month," Taylor says.

Sid clenches his fists tight. "What if he's right, though? What if I'm putting all of you through this for nothing?"

"Then it won't be your fault!" Taylor insists. "If that happens, the person it's going to be hardest on is _you_ , Sid. So however this turns out, you're the one I'm worried about."

"I'm the big brother. I'm supposed to look out for _you_."

Taylor whacks him in the arm. "I'll make sure I tell Flower you think goalies can't handle themselves."

Sid surprises himself by barking out a laugh. "No, please, have pity." He opens his eyes just in time to catch Taylor stealing his coffee. "Noooo."

She holds it out of his reach. "Coffee is for people who aren't jerks to my brother."

Sid puts his hands together, like a prayer. "I'm sorry. I'll never speak ill of the great Sidney Crosby ever again. Now please give me my coffee back." He pokes his tongue out at her when he's done pleading his case.

Taylor gulps down the last off his drink.

Sid wrinkles his nose. "Ew!"

"I'm preparing for college life," Taylor says, grinning at him.

“In that case I'm really glad I didn't go to college." Sid gets up to put on another pot of coffee, barely avoiding Taylor's attempt to trip him.

"So, if Dad continues being a jerk," Taylor says, as if she'd never derailed their conversation with coffee thievery, "I'm taking over your spare room for the rest of the summer."

Sid snorts. "As if you haven't done that already."

Taylor keeps him busy for the next hour, somehow seeming to just _know_ when Sid’s about to reach for his phone and do something masochistic. He blinks, once, and she manages to tuck it out of sight somewhere.

Sid does manage to sneak it away from her once, though, and send Jack a text. _Thanks for the pic. She’s beautiful._

Then Taylor bangs on the bathroom door and asks what the hell’s taking so long, so Sid has to hide his phone and act innocent. 

He opens the door and shakes his head. “You sound just like her too, y’know.”

Taylor frowns. “What?”

“Caroline tried to break into the bathroom while Jack was in there talking to me,” Sid reminds her.

“Well. I guess we both have a finely-tuned radar for when someone we care about is being stupid.” She’s blushing but still determined, and she holds out her hand for Sid’s phone. “I know you stole it back. Give it to me.”

“What if my agent calls?” Sid whines. “Or my lawyer, or my accountant?”

“Then I’ll let you know. Until then I’m your human call-screener.”

Sid sighs heavily and pulls his phone out of his pocket so she can take it back. “Whatever. I need to send some emails anyway.” More accurately, he needs to read through the mountain of information his lawyer sent through and decide, among other things, which company to use for the DNA test. If Sid lets himself think about the big picture he might start crying again, but this is a small, contained task that he can actually accomplish. And then he can send the information to Jack - one tiny way they can communicate like adults and do the right thing.

He cracks his knuckles and walks down the hall to the study.

It takes about an hour, and Sid copies his lawyer and Jack’s in on the conversation when he hits send. He’s almost tempted to literally pat himself on the back for getting the job done and keeping things civil.

“Lunch time!” Taylor yells from the kitchen.

Sid winces; the hangover hasn’t _quite_ magically disappeared.

Lunch turns out to consist of a hastily thrown together salad, and more coffee, and cold pizza. It’s disgusting, but Sid’s in heaven. He almost never lets himself indulge like this.

Taylor kicks his ankle under the table. “You can have it back for half an hour if you promise not to call Dad.”

Sid scowls. How did she _know_? And how is this fair? He still owes Mom an apology, and Dad an explanation. Or at the very least some reassurance that he’s taking this seriously, taking the right steps to try and fix it.

“Oh look!” Taylor says breezily, scrolling through Sid’s unlocked phone. “Nate sent you a video of today’s practice.”

Sid grabs for the phone but she pulls it out of reach.

“Phones are for people who aren’t mean to my brother!”

“Ugh, fine. I _promise_ ,” Sid says under duress.

Taylor hands his phone back but she watches him like a hawk.

Sid taps on the video and watches the guys at work. Duchene sends Nate a beautiful pass, and Sid can’t help longing to be there on the ice. It doesn’t matter that he _has_ been there, this whole summer; Sid can’t help feeling like letting himself fall apart yesterday and paying the price for it this morning is irresponsible. Stupid. A waste of Andy’s time and effort.

Speaking of whom, Sid taps out a message asking Andy to come over after training. There’s so much to do, now, and not just over the weeks of summer before Pens training camp. Sid has a whole _life_ to accommodate, a new person to fit into his world. And he has to do it carefully enough that he’s in a position to help Caroline without ending up in the crosshairs of Jack’s creditors. Somehow Sid has to figure all that out while still managing to fit in Andy and the guys, because he can’t just blow it off. He _needs_ his NHL career like never before.

“You’re thinking so loud I can hear you from over here,” Taylor says.

Sid smiles tightly and navigates back to the picture of Caroline. It’s going to be brutal, but when he looks at her all he can think is _mine_.

Taylor gets up and comes around the table, leaning over his shoulder so she can have another look too. “I stand by my statement: cutest kid,” she says.

The image blurs a little as Sid’s hand starts shaking. “I’m in so much trouble. What do I do, Taylor?”

She wraps her arms around him from behind and squeezes him. “You’re already doing it. You’re making a start, telling people who can help you figure it out.

“Dad’s never going to forgive me.”

“Yes he will,” Taylor promises. “Just maybe not until the NHL starts back up again.”

“Jesus, Taylor.” That’s so awful Sid can’t do anything but laugh.

She pokes him in the shoulder. “Why do you think he was so happy about me going to college? Now he has a few more years to figure out whether or not he trusts the NWHL to ‘manage’ me properly.”

The air quotes send Sid into a fit of giggles, and he has to put his head down on the table. “We’re so fucked up.”

Taylor snorts. “So what else is new? Besides you narrowly avoiding a supporting role on Teen Mom, I mean.”

Sid can’t do anything but laugh until his stomach hurts.


	6. Chapter 6

When the doorbell rings in the afternoon, Sid still hasn’t figured out what to say to Andy. Oh, he’s had plenty of _time_ to figure it out; he just… hasn’t. Because he asked Jack to bring their daughter to visit, but he doesn’t know when that’ll happen yet - doesn’t know for sure that it _will_ happen, just like he’s not 100% sure Caroline is his.

How is he supposed to talk to Andy about completely changing his plans for the summer when he doesn’t even know what those plans are? Should Sid just let the guys get on with what they’re doing, and train by himself? Does he even have the right to ask Andy if he can spend more time in Cole Harbour?

He’s still running a million questions through his head when Taylor comes in, Andy trailing right behind her. 

“Hey,” Sid says, standing up. “Sorry I flaked on you at the last minute.”

Andy raises his eyebrows. “Sid, in a decade and a half not once have I ever thought of you as a flake. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think I can go to Florida next month,” Sid blurts out. 

Over Andy’s shoulder he sees Taylor roll her eyes. “Sid has some family things to figure out,” she translates, “but he’s spent the past couple hours worrying about letting down you and the guys instead.” She waggles Sid’s phone at him and sets it on the coffee table.

“Why don’t we sit down and talk,” Andy suggests

“Good plan,” Taylor says. “I’m heading out to give you guys some space. Sid, let me know what you want to do for dinner.” 

She turns and leaves, and Sid waits until he hears the front door click shut before he flops onto the couch. Andy takes one of the arm chairs and just waits patiently. That’s one of the reasons Sid’s always liked working with him: Andy exudes calm.

“I got a phone call yesterday, after practice,” Sid begins, nervously running his thumbnail over the fabric of his couch. “I’m taking a DNA test tomorrow to confirm it, but apparently I have a daughter.”

Andy just nods, apparently unphased. “That’s a lot to take in. I can see why you needed some time.”

“Yeah, I- If she’s mine, she’s going to be coming up here for the summer. So I need to be here. I’m sorry; I know it’s not what we planned.” Sid’s tempted to grab one of the throw pillows and crush it to his chest, but he’s not an eight year old at his first sleepaway camp.

“How are your family taking it?” Andy asks, his voice completely steady and even as he cuts right to the heart of why Sid’s so messed up right now. But then, they’ve known each other since Sid was thirteen years old.

“Taylor’s great. I think my mom’s okay with it.” Sid stops there; he doesn’t want to throw his dad under the bus. It’s not Dad’s fault Sid screwed up.

“Ah,” Andy says, his nose scrunching in sympathy. Oh, right; he’s known Sid’s dad for a decade and a half, too.

“I think it’d be different if she was just a baby,” Sid explains. “But Dad’s kind of freaking out about what could’ve happened if the media found out about her earlier. She’s five and a half,” he adds as an afterthought, because Andy’s looking confused.

Andy blinks. “That’s… definitely not a baby.”

“No.” Sid gives up on pretending to be a grown up and grabs the throw pillow, twisting it in his hands.

“Twenty-one’s pretty young to become a father,” Andy says, “but what’s done is done. Troy will adjust to it in his own time.”

Sid sighs. “I guess. I mean, I’m still adjusting to it.

“Take as much time as you need. And if you need to not think about it for a while, I can arrange a workout that’ll wipe the floor with you,” Andy says, smiling crookedly.

“The guys-” Sid starts, but he has no idea what to say next, so he just keeps strangling his pillow.

“Let me worry about that,” Andy replies. “And if you want to stay here instead of coming to Florida I’m more than happy to take the guys out of your hair.”

“Thanks, Andy. I- Thank you.”

“No problem, kid.” Then Andy snorts. “I guess I shouldn’t call you that now that you _have_ a kid.”

Sid groans. “I’d finally started making people forget that nickname. When this hits the media Deadspin’s going to call her Sid’s Kid for _years_.”

“They won’t hear about it from me,” Andy promises. And that’s another reason Sid’s always liked working with him: Andy could’ve made serious money over the years, trading on Sid’s name or outright selling him out, but he keeps things professional and his endorsements low-key. And he guards Sid’s privacy whenever they work together.

“I’ll let you know what I’m doing as soon as I get the DNA results back,” Sid replies. “It should only be a week tops.” The lab promised three days, but the weekend’s coming up. And if Caroline turns out not to be his, Sid’s going to need a couple of days to lose his mind.

“Do what you need to do,” Andy says, and then he hesitates for a minute before asking, “How are you doing? Did you get any sleep last night?”

Sid grimaces. “I took a shot at drinking myself into a coma last night. I was lucky to have Nate and Taylor around to make sure I didn’t concuss myself again.”

Andy just nods, like he’s not in the least surprised even though Sid’s hardly in the habit of treating his summers like spring break. “What you’re going through is stressful, and that’s bound to take a toll physically. We’ll adjust your regime as we need to.”

Sid finds himself nodding back. Somehow Andy makes this whole mess sound like just another variable - something they can wait out, observe, and control. Right now he’s one of Sid’s favourite people in the entire world.

“Will you be back on deck tomorrow?” Andy asks.

“Yeah.” Sid lets go of the pillow and runs his hand through his hair. “A day and a half of feeling sorry for myself is long enough. I’ll get the test done first thing in the morning and meet you at the gym.”

“Okay, good.” Andy stands up and holds out his hand. But when Sid goes to shake it Andy pulls him up out of his seat and gives him a quick hug. “It’s a little premature, but congratulations.”

Sid laughs before he can stop himself. “You’re the first person who’s said that to me.”

“I won’t be the last,” Andy says, completely sure of himself.

For the first time Sid feels like he’s actually swimming, managing to keep him head above water instead of drowning. “I hope so,” Sid says, and lets him go


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an update, sorry

I'm officially discontinuing this story. I appreciate every single one of your comments, but I'm just not comfortable writing for Sid anymore. I'll leave it up for a week, and then it's coming down from the archive

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about the mess of Jack Johnson's life


End file.
